


Home, oh sweet home (it's only a saying)

by Elisexyz



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e21 Second Star To The Right, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-28 13:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Both Emma and Neal fall into the portal opened by Tamara, and it lands them in Neverland.





	Home, oh sweet home (it's only a saying)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the "Standed/Lost" prompt on [my Bad Things Happen Bingo card on Tumblr](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/183271387104/strandedlost-fill-for-the-bad-things-happen). This turned out much longer than I thought it'd be LOL.  
>  Title from [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nqXSAdOfCUE).

“No, no, come on, don’t do this—” she mumbles, trying to press harder and ignore the insane amount of blood pouring between her fingers. She glances around again, as if hoping that some sort of help could have materialized in the last five seconds, but she sees nothing but trees and a stupid beach.

“Come on, wake _up_ —”

She knows she’s being stupid, that there’s literally no chance in hell that he’ll just randomly stop being unconscious when there is no hospital around or any even _remotely_ competent medical help, yet she keeps trying, somehow still hoping that Neal will come to and assure that it’s just a papercut and they can carry on with business as per usual.

Her first instinct, when she realized how _bad_ it was, was yelling for help, but there’s a weird feeling of uneasiness creeping up under her skin, and her gut says that there’s something wrong with this place and that she shouldn’t be attracting attention.

Still, she can’t just expect him to magically—

Magically.

She’s got magic.

She has no idea how to actually use it, but she’s desperate and Neal is _dying_ , so what the hell, it’s her best option.

“Okay, okay,” she breathes out, her fingers trembling as she stops putting pressure on the wound, trying to concentrate on the end result. That should work, right? “I got this,” she blatantly lies. “I got this.”

Her eyes flicker to Neal’s very pale and disturbingly motionless face, and she has to shake her head for a moment to regain her focus. She just needs to fix it. She can do it, she’s the Savior, right? She’s the daughter of True Love and all that crap that Henry and everyone else are always going on and on about, she’s got magic and she’s going to damn well _use_ it now—

 _Please, please, just work_ —

Soon enough, there are literal sparkles coming out of her fingers, energy floating right through her as she grins slightly in disbelief. It works much more quickly than she could have ever hoped, and all that’s left in the end is the blood covering bare skin and Neal still unconscious but breathing noticeably better.

“Neal,” she immediately calls, checking for a pulse – strong and steady, _yes_ – and then gently patting him on the cheek, because she’s pretty sure that her heart isn’t going to stop racing until she’s looking at him in the eye and listening to him say that he’s feeling perfectly fine. She grimaces a little when she notices that she touched him with dirty hands and he’s got blood over his face now.

She pulls him up so that he’s sort of sitting, holding him up with an arm around his shoulders. “Neal, hey, wake up—”

His eyes flicker open, and he comes to with a brief intake of air, looking confused for a few moments before his eyes focus on her.

“Emma?” he calls, his voice hoarse.

“Yeah,” she exhales, chuckling more than a little hysterically as she pushes back tears of relief. Instead, she bows her head so that her forehead bumps against his shoulder, inhaling deeply in an attempt at calming herself down. “It worked,” she mumbles, in disbelief.

“What—what exactly happened?” Neal asks, confused, although he’s hugging her too, stroking her back reassuringly.

“I fixed a bullet hole,” she announces, still grinning hysterically and pulling back just enough to look at him in the face. “With _magic_.”

He blinks at her.

“Oh, well,” he finally snorts. “Thank you. Never thought I’d be actually grateful for ma—” His eyes move to the space around them, and his expression falls immediately as he cuts himself off in the middle of the last word. “—gic,” he completes, flatly.

Emma frowns, feeling pretty damn uneasy when she notices how wide his eyes have gone. He looks horrified. That can’t be good.

“What is it?” she prompts. “Do you know this place?”

Neal swallows heavily, nodding once as he moves his attention back to her. “Yeah, I do. And we gotta get moving, _now_. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t leave her much room to protest, gently pulling back from her before pushing himself up. She’s quick to follow, and she’s glad she did when he sways a little on his feet.

“Woah, woah— you alright?” she asks, grabbing his arm to offer support. She doesn’t really want to have him drop to the ground again, thank you. “Maybe we should stay here—”

“Bad idea, trust me,” he replies, casting a worried glance to the trees. “I’ll explain on the way, just follow me. Walk close to me, and watch out for thorns, there are poisonous plants around here.”

“Sounds wonderful,” she mumbles, but she follows him as they start walking towards the woods. Personally, she would feel more at ease on the beach instead of in the middle of a forest hiding god knows what, but he seems to be expert here, so she’ll just trust that he knows what he’s doing. “Where exactly are we?”

Neal sighs. “Neverland.”

That almost makes her stop dead on her tracks. “ _Seriously_?” she asks, although she isn’t sure how she’s still _surprised_ , at this point. “I suppose Disney lied to me once again. I don’t see any mermaids, or cute little boys, or pixie dust—”

“Well, the Lost Boys are a thing, they are just not cute,” Neal replies, turning towards her for a moment to flash a bitter grin her way. “Pan is a thing too, but he’s a dick. And let’s just say that whatever else you find in here will probably try to kill you.”

“Of course we couldn’t land in a nice little place with friendly people,” she complains, warily eyeing a suspicious bush on her right and stepping away a little to steer clear of it.

There are a few moments of silence, then Neal asks: “What happened, by the way?”

“I told you.”

“No, I mean— what are you doing here?”

Oh, right. Last he checked, he was doing the stupid noble hero and falling to his death to make sure that she could stay with Henry— yeah, no, not thinking about Henry right now. He’s safe, he’s with her parents.

“I fell,” she says, curtly. “Fortunately we landed in the same place.”

“No, not fortunately, you shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles, grimly, and she isn’t really sure that she wants to know what exactly sucks so much about Neverland that he’d be such a pessimist on the subject. Neal has always been kinda prone to optimism, irritatingly so at times, _she_ is the downer of the two.

She decides that now is probably not the time to ask anyway.

“Are we going somewhere or just wandering?” she finally asks.

“I know where we can find some shelter,” he explains. Again, he doesn’t sound thrilled about it, at all.

 

‘Shelter’ ends up being a cave that he apparently used to live in.

They get there unscathed, without being attacked by anything nor getting poisoned by any plants, and when Neal steps in he sarcastically comments: “Home, sweet home.”

He takes out a lighter from his pocket and uses it to light a couple of rudimental candles lying around.

“Tamara smokes,” he explains, at her questioning look, his tone heavier than normal.

Which reminds her— “I’m sorry,” she says, quickly, her expression twisting into a grimace. No matter the horrible gut feeling that the woman gave her, Neal clearly loved her, and she just tried to kill him. “About—”

“About being right?” he asks, lightly, with a smile that doesn’t really match his eyes.

She sighs, unamused. “About her.”

He shrugs, his eyes dropping to the ground and his smile falling a little. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you sooner,” he simply says. He walks up to a corner to pick up a crossbow. “This will probably be useful,” he comments, looking at it with a glint of pride.

“So what do we do?” she asks, allowing the change of subject because it probably isn’t the best time to talk feelings, and she isn’t a fan anyway. “Hide in here and hope no one realizes we’re here?”

“Pan knew the moment we stepped foot on the island, probably,” Neal counters. “The cave is just shelter, it covers our sides and gives us a chance to shoot in the head anyone who tries to walk in.”

“Great,” Emma mumbles, sitting down with her back against a wall.

Neal does the same, occupying the space right next to her, the crossbow on his lap and his shoulder touching hers lightly.

“Do we have a plan?” she asks then.

“Well, I know how to get off the island,” he breathes out, closing his eyes for a moment as he gently bumps the back of his head against the wall. “We need to capture Pan’s shadow, which is— a real pain in the ass. It’s in Dark Hollow, we trap it, and we can use it to travel back to Storybrooke.”

“Dark Hollow, of course. Why couldn’t it be called something like _Sunshine_ Valley or—or _Rainbow_ Cave?” she mumbles. That at least gets a small smile out of him. When he starts moving to sit up, she immediately stops him. “We’re getting some rest first,” she orders.

“Emma—”

“No,” she interrupts, firmly. “I don’t know how long we’ve walked, but it wasn’t long enough for you to look like you’ve just ran a marathon. You need to sit down for a while. Plus, if Peter Pan knows we’re here already, waiting around won’t make us any more screwed than we already are.”

“It will give him more time to come up with funny ideas,” he comments, grimly, but he does stay put.

Emma sighs, straightening her back a little as she looks around. Under the light provided by the candles, she notices drawings all over the walls.

“Did you make these?” she asks, standing up to take a better look.

“Uh, yeah,” he replies, shifting a little on his seat. “That’s crappy navigation math,” he adds, briefly gesturing with his head to the part of the wall that she’s been staring at, trying to decipher whatever’s in front of her.

“And who are they?” she asks, pointing at five human figures.

He smiles a little. “Those are the Darlings,” he explains, fondly. “They took me in for a while.”

“The Darlings?” she echoes. Because of course if Neal knows Captain Hook and how to sail his ship he also knows the Darlings.

Her eyes fall on a series of tally marks that abruptly stop, and likely not because he left. He once mentioned that he’d be a couple of centuries old, if he had arrived to the real world immediately after leaving his. According to the story, you don’t age on Neverland. He’s definitely been there long enough to stop feeling like counting the days made any sense – her stomach twists on itself, because she knows the feeling all too well.

“Yeah, the movie didn’t exactly get them right,” Neal explains, as she sits back next to him. “I mean— Mr Darling wasn’t really that bad. Wendy caught me stealing food from their table, and she started hiding me in her room—”

Emma can’t help snorting at that.

“—until her parents found out. I thought I’d be back on the streets, but they decided to keep me, for some reason. Mr Darling wasn’t that happy in the beginning, but he was always kind anyway— they’re all good people.”

“They seem nice,” she smiles.

He raises his eyes on her, smiling back, if with an hint of sadness. “Yeah, they were.”

“How did it end?” she asks, because they used to tell each other that kind of stuff anyway, and he knows that she gets it, that he can talk about it. If he doesn’t want to, he can always shrug it off and start talking about the weather.

“Pan’s shadow crashed the party,” he shrugs, shifting uncomfortably. “It goes to kids who believe in magic and convinces them to come here, then Pan doesn’t let them escape.”

“Did they end up here too?”

“No, thank god,” Neal immediately answers, smiling a little to himself. “Just me. They probably grew old and lived very boring, happy lives with three children each or something.”

Emma smiles a little too, trying not to dwell too much onto the feelings that talking about almost families that could have been generates in her. He could have stayed with them forever, had things been different, but he ended up on Neverland.

“So this is how you got here,” she comments, absent-mindedly. How horrible must it have been to go from a family to a cave?

“Eh, not exactly,” he replies, catching her a little off-guard. “I mean, since I’m spilling my life-story here—” he adds, jokingly, trailing off with a small grin. “Hook fished me out of the sea and hid me from Pan for a while.”

“Seriously?” Emma can’t help echoing. “That’s— surprisingly decent of him.”

Neal snorts, loudly. “Yeah, in fact it didn’t last. Turns out that he’s the guy my mother ran away with.”

Emma remembers him talking about a mother who left and a stepfather that at some point kicked him out, and suddenly she starts connecting the dots, getting a—a really disturbing picture.

“ _Hook_ was your mother’s lover?” she can’t help echoing.

“Yup. He took me in in memory of her, apparently, but he lied to me about it the whole time, not to mention that he used me for intel on how to kill my dad, and when I found out we had this huge fight— and the bastard sold me out to Pan for help with his stupid revenge.”

Emma opens her mouth, a very colourful string of insults going through her head, but they are so many that they all get tangled within each other and nothing eventually comes out.

“When we get away from here, remind me to punch him in the face for you,” she says, and she _means_ it. She never particularly liked Hook anyway, this is just the icing on the cake.

Neal grins at her, bowing his head as if to hide it.

 

 

When they hear noise coming from outside, Neal is quick to move far away from the entrance, pushing her behind and raising the crossbow, ready to shoot.

Emma holds perfectly still behind him, wishing that she still had her gun on her.

She was expecting pretty much anything except what she actually gets: Hook walks in, comically freezing on the spot when he notices them, his eyes going wide and his hands shooting up.

“Hey, hey, wait a minute here—”

“Hook?” Neal calls, confusion dripping from every letter as he lowers his weapon. “The hell are you doing here?”

Before he can answer, Emma catches sight of her parents coming up from behind him, their eyes widening in disbelief at the same time as hers.

“Mom! Dad!” she calls, smiling in relief as she walks past Neal to wrap her arms around them. They _came_ for them, thank _god_ —

“Emma—” David breathes out, cradling her head as Mary Margaret tries to suffocate her. Emma notices that Regina is with them too, looking much more contained but still a little surprised. “You’re okay—”

“Yeah, yeah, we thankfully didn’t get into any trouble,” she says, pulling away to smile at them both. They look near-tears, which is a little odd: she wasn’t gone that long, was she?

“You said they were dead!” Regina accuses, and Emma sharply turns towards Hook, who raises his hand to gesture his disbelief.

“Hey! I—I just told you all what Tamara told me!” he protests. Emma’s eyes flicker to Neal at that, and she catches his jaw clenching. “She said that he got in the way and that she shot him, I said nothing about Swan, you assumed that all on your own.” He then turns towards Neal, giving him a quick onceover. “So— she lied, I suppose?” he asks, tentatively.

“No, she didn’t,” Emma quickly intervenes, knowing that Neal doesn’t really want to discuss that now – or ever, probably. “I just fixed him up— with magic,” she adds, a little hesitantly, casting a glance around.

Regina raises her eyebrows. “Did you?” she echoes, slowly. “That’s impressive.”

“Wait, if you thought we were dead,” Neal suddenly asks, stepping closer to the group. “What exactly are you doing here?”

Yeah, that’s a good question, actually. They can’t have come for them, after all.

“Oh, yes, that—” Mary Margaret mumbles, uncomfortably. Emma’s stomach sinks to her knees, and she realizes then that she was counting on her parents to look after Henry, and they are both there. They might have just left him in Storybrooke with someone they trust, but— “We came for Henry,” Mary Margaret quickly explains. “He’s— here.”

“ _What_?!” Emma demands, at the same time as Neal all but yells: “Henry’s _here_?!”

Emma turns to him to meet his eyes, and the panic that she finds on his face is not at all reassuring.

“How the hell did he end up here?!” she asks, unsure of whom she should be looking at, if at her parents because she was counting on them specifically or if at Regina because she’s Henry’s mother too, after all, how the _hell_ could she let this happen?

“Short version is,” Hook intervenes, when no one else seems to be jumping in. “Your fiancé and her boyfriend were working for Pan all along, and he wanted them to kidnap Henry and bring him here, for whatever reason— and I had a spare bean, so we followed.”

“Pan has Henry,” Neal repeats, and she doesn’t like how _flat_ he makes it sound. “Tell me you’re _kidding_ ,” he hisses then, glaring at Hook as if it were somehow his fault. And, well, he’s an asshole and he was working with Tamara and Greg, it actually kind of is his fault.

“No, sorry, lad,” he can only say, to which Neal grunts in frustration, furiously rubbing his face.

“How bad is it, exactly?” Emma asks, trying to keep her voice stable although her heartbeat is fastening and she can’t seem to breathe right.

Henry has been kidnapped. Henry has been kidnapped by some kind of evil kid from a Disney movie. And a pretty dangerous one, judging by Neal’s behaviour. Sometimes she really misses the stress-free life as a bail bondsperson.

“Doesn’t matter,” Neal announces, resolutely. “We’re getting him back, one way or the other.”

“The main problem is that Pan has powerful magic,” David comments. “And Gold has run off on his own—”

“My dad’s here?” Neal frowns, surprised.

Regina snorts. “Yes, but it doesn’t do us any good since he blew us off before we even made shore. He wanted to go after Pan—”

“Alone?!” Neal asks, his tone edging on worry in spite of all the bad blood between him and Gold.

Regina shrugs nonchalantly. “He’s never been much a of a team player.”

Neal sighs, shaking his head a little as he holds the crossbow back up. “Yeah, okay, maybe we can catch up to him,” he says.

“Do you have a plan?” Emma asks, hopefully.

Neal turns towards her, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “More or less,” he concedes. “First things first, we’re gonna need a squid.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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